This past Saturday Greta, our oldest (and in my opinion prettiest) dog died. She was 9, so she was getting on a bit, but I thought she at least had a couple of years left in her. She was a German Shepherd, around 70lbs, not the biggest but not the smallest either. This picture is the only digital one of her that I have and it does not do her justice. My wife and I got her right after we were married, intending for her to be our first "kid" - before we found out that our firstborn was already on the way. Because we got sucked up into the young parent thing so quickly, we weren't the best dog-owners we could have been - something I still have regrets about. She was a profoundly loyal girl who wanted nothing more than to be with us, whether underfoot in the kitchen, out in the yard, or out on walks.
She was showing her age - her hips had been giving her problems of late, which is common in Shepherds - but she was still the bouncy, happy dog we all knew on the morning of her death. Mid-morning, my wife called the dogs in for treats, but Greta would not move - she just lay there on her old bed, perfectly still. It looks like she went out quickly (a stroke or heart attack, maybe) and for that I'm thankful.
I held it together pretty well until I had to turn her body over to animal control in town, then I pretty much broke down. I'm going to miss having her around.
One last little "stick it in and twist" courtesy of our marvelous city government: I had to pay an additional $15 on top of the disposal fee because my dog was not spayed. Can you frigging believe that? A dead dog's uterus is no threat to ANYONE, but they have to add that little punitive jab just to remind you that you've been a naughty child. Bastards. I know it's only $15, but it's the principle, dammit!
On top of that, I pretty much got my ass kicked all week by a cold that migrated from my head to my chest and decided to stick around for a while. I'm still coughing up yellow crap as I write. OK, OK... maybe a little too much detail.
And, finally... we took in our newest truck for service because the engine light was on. Turns out it needs a new turbo. Still under warranty, so it won't cost me anything, and we've got enough vehicles around here that we can get by without it (it's the truck we use to tow our trailer) but I have to say that I'm more than a little disturbed to find the truck that I just dropped $39K on two years ago has frigging engine problems with less than 14K miles on the odometer. Shit, we already had to replace a head on this sumbitch too! I reluctantly spent this much on a diesel because I was given to believe that they were reliable, and I don't want to have to buy another truck for at least ten years. Let me just say, my confidence has been eroded quite dramatically this week, especially after hearing the service tech say, "Yeah, we've been seeing a lot of problems with this particular motor. It's why Ford went to the 6.4L twin turbo this year."
OK, enough whining for now. Bouncing around the blogosphere really has helped keep me from feeling too sorry for myself this week, so thanks to all out there for all your little diversions...
3 comments:
Kevin,
My most sincere condolences on your loss. Losing our friends is never easy, we just have to remember the great times we had. Sounds like you had quite a few.
Thanks, Todd. Yes, we had a lot of good times. Losing Greta was a little harder than I expected.
Hearing these things is almost like hearing about a child dying...man, I'm so sorry.
I've been through that a few times and it's not easy. Try to think forward to the happiness and smell of a new puppy!
Post a Comment